


dark shadows

by orphan_account



Category: Dark Shadows (2012), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Dark Shadows AU, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Vampire Oswald Cobblepot, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 02:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Hi. My name is Edward Nash-“ he said out loud in a hushed tone but stopped mid-sentence. His  mouth slipped into a frown. Nashton. Edward Nashton. He wasn’t that boy anymore. He hadn’t been that boy in years. He wanted nothing to do with his family, and it had been blatantly obvious back then that his family felt the same way towards him.He looked around the near-empty train and his eyes landed on a poster on the wall. It read “ENIGMA. Coming on Broadway This Winter.”. Enigma...“Hi. My name is Edward Nygma.” He smiled to himself. “Please, call me Ed.”Or the Dark Shadows (2012) AU no one asked me to write.





	1. dark shadows (prologuea)

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea at the back of my head ever since i rewatched dark shadows a couple weeks ago. i literally outlined the entire story already (25 chapters?!?!?!?)  
> the first three chapters will probably appear slightly shorter and rushed, perhaps not as good as my previous works. i wrote them during my "three hours writing challenge", which should appear on my youtube channel in a couple weeks! i'll be sure to link it in the notes when it does.
> 
> the chapter names are from the soundtrack so they may be a little odd, lol

The speed of the moving train made the trees on the outside of the window look like a mere blur. Shades of red, yellow, orange and brown all mushed together. It wasn’t raining, but the grey clouds circling the cloud were not very promising. Edward glanced out of the window and sighed silently. His reflection in the glass looked underfed and bored. Exactly like its real life counterpart. Edward turned back and stared at the seat in front of him. A boring wine red train seat with suspicious stains on it. He rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses and tried to calm down. The thoughts flying through his head didn’t make it easy to focus. There was a constant buzzing in-between his ears and it made all his thoughts appear incoherent and foggy.

He was going to have a job. He was moving away from Gotham, away from his past life, yet he wasn’t convinced it’d be as easy as it seemed to brush away the ghosts of his past. Figuratively and literally speaking. He had never thought about being a teacher, but for some reason the family he was planning on visiting hadn’t asked a single question when he’d sent them a letter. They didn’t have high hopes, then. That was probably for the best.

“Hi. My name is Edward Nash-“ he said out loud in a hushed tone but stopped mid-sentence. His mouth slipped into a frown. Nashton. Edward Nashton. He wasn’t that boy anymore. He hadn’t been that boy in years. He wanted nothing to do with his family, and it had been blatantly obvious back then that his family felt the same way towards him.

He looked around the near-empty train and his eyes landed on a poster on the wall. It read “ENIGMA. Coming on Broadway This Winter.”. Enigma...

“Hi. My name is Edward Nygma.” He smiled to himself. “Please, call me Ed.”

Vandahlia’s train station was merely one small and old-looking building next to the train tracks. Edward couldn’t help but get nervous when a pair of guards walked past him on the platform. _You’re being ridiculous_ , the voice in his head told him. _It wasn’t like they were following him._ He fastened his pace and practically ran through the station building, ending up on the other side of it. The letter he had gotten back from the Van Dahl family had detailed how they would be picking him up from the station and drive him tot he mansion since it was in the middle of the forest. However, when Ed looked around, he couldn’t locate a single car that matched the letter’s description. A light blue Chevy? There were none present. Perhaps the driver just late?

Nearly half an hour passed, and Edward got tired sitting on the bench outside of the station. He stood up and took a hold of his suitcase. It was quite the light one – he barely had any belongings. Just a pyjama, some toiletries, a couple of his favourite books and personal items. All his money was secured in the inside of his jacket. He sighed, looking around the perimeters one more time. Still no light blue Chevy.

It took about fifteen minutes of standing on the side of the road with his thumb in the air before he finally got himself a lift. A bright yellow Volkswagen minibus scooted on the curb and stopped in front of him. Edward let out a sigh of relief and climbed into it without questions asked. It was packed with half a dozen people. While Edward usually didn’t judge people based on the clothes they wore, it was painfully obvious that they were hippies. The potent stench of weed inside the vehicle didn’t make his assumptions fade.

“Where it’ll be, laddie?” the man on the driver’s seat asked. His eyes were obscured by large circular sunglasses and he wore a big smile on his face. Either he was naturally happy or high.

“The Van Dahl mansion, please,” Edward said and tucked his suitcase in the leg space. His long legs didn’t enjoy the lack of room, and it didn’t help that he was surrounded by people his age yet polar opposites of him.

“Oooh, that’s a fancy place,” a girl’s voice sounded from the backseat. She leaned on Edward’s seat and looked over his shoulder. Edward tried to tactically scoot away from her, but there was simply no space to do so. “What’s your name, babe?” she asked when the car pulled off the side of the road and started moving again.

“Edward,” he said and grimaced.

“Where you comin’ from, Edward?” she asked in a lazy tone. She was clearly high and smiling dopily just like the rest of the crew.

“Gotham,” Edward responded, keeping up with the short answers in order to give a hint. At the same time he just wanted to enjoy the scenery in silence, but he also believed it to be only fair that he conversed with the people who had so kindly saved him from a tight spot.

“Gotham!” the boy sitting next to the curious female exclaimed and took a sip from a bottle. “Scary over there, huh?”

“Like a warzone”, the girl nodded and frowned.

“What’s a city boy doin’ all the way here?” the driver joined in the conversation and looked behind his shoulder. Edward wanted nothing more than to ask the man to just keep his eyes on the road.

“It’s bad over there! You’re lucky over here, Ethan. What made you c’mere?” the girl asked the same exact question, almost like she hadn’t even heard the man.

“...An old friend,” Edward said and smiled a little. “And, it’s Edward.”

“It’s Edward!” the girl yelled and laughed, putting her arm on the brunette’ shoulder. “I love this dude!”

In twenty minutes – most of which had been filled with incoherent babbling from the hipsters and silence from Edward – the minibus slowed down and came to a halt. Edward peeked out the window, past the dirty floral curtains, and stared at the large metal gate that appeared in front of him. “Here we go,” the driver said helpfully, causing Edward to open the door. The girl that had been sitting next to him and giving him love-eyes the whole drive threw his bag out the door after him.

“Easy, Ethan!” the talkative girl from the backseat shouted after him. Edward gave a small wave as he watched the crew drive off.

He picked up his bag and turned around to examine the gates further. Surrounded by vines and dirt, it didn’t look exactly inviting. There was no lock on the gate, though, so he managed to push it open without a struggle. It creaked loudly. The whole setup reminded Edward of a horror novel and he couldn’t help but wonder it this was actually a trap. Maybe a complicated plan to lure an innocent victim into the house and then boil them alive or something.

The path to the building was long, but when the mansion finally peaked in-between the trees, Edward knew right away that it had been worth it. The Van Dahl mansion was simply put stunning. Old, yes. A little broken and unkempt, yes. But at the same time it was something you didn’t see in Gotham. No one had _mansions_ in Gotham City. He walked across the yard and took note of the light blue Chevy resting next to a fountain. It was drowning in vines even worse than the gate had been, and it was clear the car hadn’t moved for years. How anyone had expected that the driver would pick him up in that was beyond him.

He put his bag on the floor and inhaled slowly. His heart leaped momentarily when he grabbed the knocker. He thought about it for a second, uncertain, but overcame his anxiety and knocked on the door. He glanced around him again and looked at the fountain. It was empty, no water.

He jolted a little when the door opened much faster than he had expected. The house was huge, so he had expected to be standing there for much longer, but a man emerged from the doorway and looked at him up and down. He was completely bald and definitely did not lower Edward’s suspicions of the horror story theory he had been rehearsing in his head.

“Hello,” Edward said and forced a smile on his face, hoping to look inviting and normal. “My name is Edward Nygma.”

The man stared at him in silence, deadpan. “Congratulations,” he finally said.

“Er. I’m here for the teacher’s position?” Edward said, lifting an eyebrow.

It was like the baldie had suddenly remembered where he was, and he straightened his spine. “Oh. Right. We’re been waiting for you.” He stepped away from the door and looked at Edward’s suitcase on the ground. Edward had expected to perhaps have it carried inside, but the man just turned around and walked away, leaving Edward to his own accords. _Fine then_ , he thought and grabbed his own bag.

The mansion might have looked exciting on the outside, but it was nothing compared to the way the interior was. As soon as he placed his bag in the entranceway and stepped further into the front hall, he had to stop himself from audibly gasping. Tiled floors, long staircases trailing further into the building, old paintings and a real chandelier that was probably worth more than Edward’s life.

“This is amazing,” he said, wonderstruck.

“I guess,” the bald man said and glanced around the room with the most uninterested of facial expressions. “A pain in the ass to clean.”

“I bet.”

“A house this size requires a hundred heads for management. Instead, the management is... me,” he pointed at himself and rolled his eyes. “Ms. Barbara is a greedy bitch.”

“Well, it’s still not like every family had a house like this,” Edward said, trying to stay positive despite the man’s negative attitude. “Or a city named after them!”

“Come again?” the man asked and looked at him, confused.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “The Van Dahls? Vandahlia?”

“Oh. I never noticed.”

Edward gave him an awkward smile, but he got quickly distracted by the painting that was on the wall behind the bald man. He stepped closer, eyes wide, and stared. It was a huge portrait of a young man, possibly around the same age as Edward, with black spiky hair and skin pale as snow. He wore clothing that appeared to be from the Victorian era, all black, with a fancy walking stick that resembled some sort of a bird.

“Who is that?” Edward asked, eyes still on the painting.

“Ossie? Oswell? Some Os-dude,” the man replied and looked at the painting, too. “I think he’s the guy whose parents built this monstrosity of a house.”

“His name,” echoed a voice suddenly in the room, startling both of the men, “was Oswald Van Dahl.” Edward whipped his head around and looked towards the staircase. At the top of it stood a woman in a tight black dress. Her blonde hair was curled up and bouncing right above her shoulders.

“And he was the finest man of his time,” she continues as she began walking down the stairs, high heels clicking loudly against the uncarpeted wood. Subconsciously Edward also walked towards the stairs, ready to greet her.

“Hello, sir,” she said with a pretentious smile – Edward was a fan of those on himself and therefore it was easy to recognize someone else wearing it. “Welcome to Valdahlia. I’m Barbara Van Dahl Kean.”

“Edward. Nygma,” Edward introduced himself, and managed a fairly convincing smile too.

Ms. Barbara Kean brought him up the stairs and into a room down a long corridor. It was a personal lounge area as far as Edward could tell. She gestured for him to take a seat and Edward followed the order without a word. She remained standing up, looking Edward up and down. For the second time in the past ten minutes Edward got the uncomfortable feeling that he was being judged.

“My apologies,” she finally said, smiling again. “That was Victor you just met. He was supposed to pick you up, but unfortunately our car is out of service. I’m glad to see you managed to get without an issue?”

“Yes. It... it’s fine,” Ed assured.

“I suppose I should tell about out family a little bit,” Barbara said and finally took a seat. “The Van Dahl family was a very strong and important family back in the day. I mean, hell, we’re named after it. But now, there’s only four of us left.

“There is me, and my daughter Selina. My wife Tabitha and our nephew, Bruce. There’s Doctor Harleen Quinzel, and Victor, the handyman. That’s about it.”

“Where are Bruce’s parents, if you don’t mind me asking?” Edward asked and smiled politely.

Barbara sighed and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “His parents were lost at sea. We took him under our wing, but he was... out of it. Not like he was before. Traumatized, poor thing. Doctor Quinzel came here in order to help him out for a couple of months.” He tired smile was all the explanation Edward needed. “That was two years ago.”

Silence fell between them and Edward realized he had made things awkward between the two of them. Barbara saved the situation by opening her mouth again. “I’d like to ask a few personal questions, in case you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” Edward said and nodded. Barbara stood back up and started absent-mindedly walking around the room while speaking.

“What do you think of the president?” she asked.

“I’ve never met him,” Edward shrugged and gave a tiny grin.

Barbara’s mouth pursed – she was hiding a genuine smile. “The war?”

“I don’t watch television.”

“Do you think men and women should be equal?” she asked, leaning on the sofa Edward was sitting on.

“Heavens, no,” Edward exclaimed and looked at her, grinning again. “Men would get uncontrollable.” That seemed to be the spirit Barbara was looking for, because she let out a small laugh and smiled benevolently.

“I think we’re going to get along very well, Mr. Nygma,” Barbara said and put out her hand for a handshake.

Edward stood up from the sofa and smiled back, grabbing her hand. “Ed. Please, call me Ed.”

After their little chat, Barbara decided it would be a good idea to show Edward around a little. Ed was very thankful for it, because the mansion’s blueprints looked very complicated and a tour from the owner of the place could help him settle in a little. Barbara showed him one of the guest bedrooms and told him to claim it as his own for the time being. Then, they marched through the house looking for Barbara’s kids.

After running through the whole east wing of the mansion and still not coming across Bruce – Barbara said the boy liked running around on the outside of the mansion, being alone – they decided to cut the wild goose chase short and simply no for the easier target; Barbara’s daughter.

“Selina?” Barbara called into a staircase that ended inside the girl’s room. The young lady in question lazily turned around on the chair hanging from her ceiling and popped a bubble gum between her lips. She looked uninterested to say the least when she stalked the two adults.

“This is Edward Nygma. He’s here to teach Bruce,” Barbara said with a raised eyebrow, clearly expecting her daughter to turn off the tough act. Her eyes widened a little and she jumped out of the chair, rushing to the doorway.

“Are you from Gotham?” she asked and leaned on the doorframe.

“Yes,” Edward said, surprised by the question but also rather amused by Selina’s attitude.

“What’s it like?” Selina asked. “I’m gonna move there when I turn sixteen.”

“Selina has a fantasy that I’m going to let her do that,” Barbara said and rolled her eyes.

“And mom has a _fantasy_ that I won’t run away if she doesn’t let me,” Selina shot back and grinned at Edward. Barbara pushed Edward on the arm lightly in order to indicate she was ready to move on from this conversation.

“It was nice meeting you, Selina,” he said and smiled at the teenager.

“Mr. Nygma,” Selina scoffed and bowed mockingly before turning around and slamming the door of her room close aggressively. The ‘ _KEEP OUT’_ sign on the door kept swinging long after it had slammed shut.


	2. nights in white satin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You ruined it!” he whined and threw the sheet on the floor. He walked over to the table and slumped next to Tabitha._
> 
> _“I wanted to scare you...” Bruce muttered, looking at Edward. “Were you scared?”_
> 
> _“Terrified,” Edward assured and confirmed it with a nod. Bruce smiled sheepishly and turned away, clearly happy with himself. Ed smiled too._  
> 

While the initial meeting of both Selina and Victor had been rather dull, Edward had a good feeling about his stay at the Van Dahl mansion. Perhaps it was caused by the fact that his bedroom was large and cozy and had the most comfortable bed he had ever slept on. He had to take a little while to just lay down on it and read one of his books before it was 5pm, the time of which Barbara had said the dinner would be served.

Edward, already having walked through the mansion once, navigated his way into the dining room without an issue. He took a seat right of Barbara who was already sitting at the table and reading a newspaper. Selina was also in the room, currently fiddling with a record player in the corner of the dining hall. She got the player working and a tune started playing in the room. Barbara didn’t seem to care, so Edward didn’t mention it either. He didn’t really know what to talk about, anyway, so perhaps it was better for there to be some consistent background noise.

Right as he got started on his meal – a rather delicious-looking porkchop with some steamed veggies –, another woman stomped into the room. The click-clacking of her stiletto heels was audible all the way from the hall, but she made her presence clear by beginning to shout as soon as she stepped into the dining hall.

“C’mon, Zsasz, I’m starving,” she complained and crashed into the chair opposite of Edward. Victor marched in behind her, rolling his eyes so prominently they could have popped out the back of his head, and slammed another piece of pork on the table with a bang.

“It better no be more dry chicken,” the tan woman said and glared at the man. “I had pieces of that shit between my teeth for _weeks_ and-“ Suddenly, her tirade stopped, because she realized she was not alone. Her dark eyes froze on Edward for a moment.

“Edward,” Barbara said and closed her eyes for a second. “My wife. Tabitha. This is Ed, Bruce’s home teacher.”

“...Right,” the woman introduced as Tabitha said and grabbed a fork, fiddling with it awkwardly. They stared at one another before Ed looked down and stared at his porkchop instead. “Teacher. Right. Great to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Edward said, to the pork, and stuck a fork in his mouth in order to not make the situation more awkward than it already was.

“Let’s hope the boy actually wants to learn something instead of just- _SELINA!_ ” she screamed in the middle of her sentence and made Edward jump and nearly choke on the bite he was chewing. Selina whipped her head around so fast her curls slapped her in the face. She had stopped mid-dance session.

“Can you turn that god-awful screeching down? I can’t hear my own thoughts!” Tabitha ordered and pointed at the record player with her fork. Slowly, Selina got out of her shock and pranced over to the record player, swiftly turning it off. Complete silence filled the dining room and Tabitha turned back to Edward, looking pleased with herself.

“As I was saying,” she said and glared at Selina who shrunk into a chair as far away from the rest of the family as possible, “let’s hope Bruce actually wants to learn something.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Barbara said. “He’ll get around to it.”

The family continued eating in relative silence. Every once in a while Barbara or Tabitha said something to each other, but Edward didn’t feel pressured to join the conversation. To be completely honest, he was almost scared to say anything in front of Tabitha in case she would flip again. The woman appeared to possess some anger issues.

Edward raised his head from the plate in order to grab the water glass, but he froze when his eyes wandered behind Tabitha. She was lazily twirling his porkchop on the plate and wasn’t paying attention, but Edward saw into the hallway behind her. There stood the most stereotypical-looking ghost imaginable; sheet covering and holes for eyes. It was almost comical if Edward hadn’t been so confused and spook. He glanced at Barbara, who took a sip of her glass of wine, unphased.

“Bruce, this is Edward. Your teacher,” she said nonchalantly. Ed looked back at the ghost, who turned out to not be a boy at all. Instead, said ghost ripped the sheet off and groaned.

“You ruined it!” he whined and threw the sheet on the floor. He walked over to the table and slumped next to Tabitha.

“What have I told you about cutting holes in the sheets?” Tabitha asked and looked over her shoulder at the ruined sheet on the floor. “It’s Italian fabric, for god’s sake.”

“I wanted to scare you...” Bruce muttered, completely ignoring one of her mothers and looking at Edward instead. “Were you scared?”

“Terrified,” Edward assured and confirmed it with a nod. Bruce smiled sheepishly and turned away, clearly happy with himself. Ed smiled too. Bruce reminded him of himself a little bit.

“You don’t need to be nice to him just cause he’s crazy, y’know?”

Edward turned to look at Selina from the other end of the table. She was slumping on her chair and pointing a fork in the air while chewing on a piece of pork.

“Selina,” Barbara said expectedly.

“Selina touches herself and whines when she thinks no one can see,” Bruce shot back in the same matter-of-fact tone as he’d said everything else up until that point.

“You little shit!” Selina yelled and stood up from her chair, grabbing a butter knife out of what seemed to be instinct.

“Selina!” Barbara snapped and looked up from her newspaper. “Into your room.” When Selina did nothing to comply, she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows in irritation.

Selina was completely silent for a second before losing it, too. “None of you care about how I feel!” she shouted, pointing at herself. She glared at the whole group angrily, but when no one turned around and stood up for her, she just huffed and stormed out of the room. Edward didn’t feel like it was his place to comment, so he just shut his mouth and ate more pork.

“So,” Tabitha said, clearly happy that Selina was out of the room. “Tell me about yourself, Edward.”

“Oh. Um...” Ed mumbled and fiddled with his fork. “I... I’m not very interesting.”

“You been doing a lot of teaching? You’re from Gotham? What’s it like over there? A high crime rate, isn’t it?” Tabitha shot questions at him like rapid fire. Edward had no idea which one to answer first – or what to even say – so he just nodded like an idiot.

“Yes. It’s... It’s rainy. Lot of crime, yeah.”

“ _You_ are a liar,” came a voice from the opposite end of the room all of sudden. Edward turned around once again just as the owner of said voice started walking forward. She was quite the peculiar woman; very age-inappropriate pigtails that made her look much younger than she probably was, bright red lipstick and arched eyebrows. All her clothes were either red or black or a combination of the two. She reminded Edward of a clown.

“I’m sorry?”

“I can tell you’re a liar,” she repeated and took a seat right next to Edward. She reached for his face and examined it, much to Ed’s discomfort. “I can look at people’s faces and see what they’re really like. Yours is saying... _I appear innocent, but I have a secret to hide_.”

“Give him a break, Harley,” Barbara said and rolled her eyes.

“You’re the Doctor,” Edward said.

“Labels, everyone’s so set on them,” Doctor Quinzel said and let go of Edward’s face. “For example, you’re ‘ _the teacher’_ and she’s ‘ _the bitch_ ’,” she said, presenting large question marks over the side of her head when labelling Ed and Barbara. Barbara squinted her eyes and smiled maliciously.

Edward was glad once the dinner was over. The Van Dahl family was a lot to swallow, but he was positive that they wouldn’t be the worst people to be around once he got to know them a little better. The janitor Victor seemed nice enough, maybe a little slow but nice. Barbara was a good hostess and made up whatever Tabitha lacked in hospitality. Bruce would probably be a good kid to look after – Selina? Maybe not so much, but she was a teen. What could one expect? She was obviously just angry that Bruce got more attention than she did. It was normal at that age.

Edward started unpacking late at night, because he got carried away with the book he’d been reading. He actually ended up finishing the whole thing, and it was well past ten o’clock when he finally settled down for the night. He started pulling a spare pillow cover from a cabinet, but when he turned around he flinched. The ghost was back at the doorway. Edward gave it a slanted smile and put the pillow down.

“Bruce, you startled me,” he said and looked at the boy, expecting him to get mad for “spoiling the surprise” again. “Preparing for Halloween?” Edward asked, beginning to approach the boy. Suddenly, he got an odd sense of dread. Something didn’t seem right. The closer he got, the further away he wanted to be from the door. He reached what he assumed to be Bruce underneath the sheet and grabbed it. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so his vision was slightly blurry, but even in that state he noticed that the eyes that stared back at him were not the pair of Bruce’s.

He ripped off the sheet and felt like a huge bucket of icy water had thrown over him. The sheet hit the floor and the creature below it emerged, flowing off the ground. It was a ghost of a man who looked very similar to Edward, but he had shoulder-length, messy hair compared to Ed’s short cut. Edward was not unfamiliar with the ghost, but he had not expected him to turn up like this. At this point. _Why? He’d wanted Ed here, right?_

“ _He’s coming_ ,” the ghost whispered, leaving the doorway and beginning to float down the corridor outside Edward’s bedroom. Ed could have easily turned away and slammed the door shut. He could have simply not dealt with this right now. Yet for some reason something inside of him forced him to follow the blue creature luminating the hallway. He walked behind the ghost all the way up to the entrance hall staircase. The ghost floated off the edge and continued its path all the way to the enormous chandelier.

It turned to look at Edward who was frozen in front of the railing. “ _He’s coming_ ”, repeated the ghost, circling around the chandelier.

“Who’s coming?” Edward whispered, but got no answer. Instead, the ghost stood still mid-air and then plummeted back-first into the floor of the entrance hall. It disappeared underneath the carpet like a corpse drowning. Edward stared at the spot where the ghost had gone with a million thoughts in his head. What the _hell_ was that about? Who was coming?

Edward had a hard time falling asleep that night. Even though the bed was nice.


	3. highway star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I am so terribly sorry for this,” the man spoke. At least it looked like a man, but the supervisor was convinced it was merely a monster. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. “You must understand that I am very, very thirsty right now. Apologies.” With that, the man raised the supervisor higher up and struck against his neck. He fed himself hungrily until there was no blood left on the man. Just a sack of muscle, skin and bones. He threw the corpse on the ground and swiped his mouth on his sleeve._
> 
> _What a terrible mess he’d made._

At the same time on the opposite side of town, a crew of construction workers were hard at work. The population of Vandahlia had demanded a McDonalds, so they shalt give them a McDonalds. The night-shift wasn’t the most fun to work, but it payed nearly double the amount of a day shift, so there weren’t a lack of constructors. The supervisor of the construction crew was just about to take a nice, big bite of his midnight sandwich, when a man hurried over to him and knocked on the door of the excavator.

“Yo, boss,” he said. “We hit somethin’ over there. Somethin’ big.”

Sighing, the supervisor put down his sandwich and jumped out of the excavator, following the man towards the spot. A pair of workers were standing in a pit and scratching their necks. “It’s probably a water pipe,” one of them said when they noticed their boss.

“In the middle of nowhere?” he replied and tilted his head. “There ain’t s’posed to be any around. Dig it up.”

It didn’t take long for the men to do as they were told, and the supervisor watched from the distance with a suspicious expression. It shifted when he saw what was buried in the dirt.

“No way,” he muttered, staring at the coffin-shaped box in the ground. It was surrounded by thick metallic chains. “Bring the clippers!” he shouted, already rushing down the soft dirt on his guest to get to the bottom of the pit. Someone threw a pair at him and he pushed the other men aside, clippers in hand. He looked at the box hungrily.

“What do you think it is?” one of the men asked, excitement bursting through in his voice.

“Dunno, but it looks expensive,” another one responded when their boss cut through the first chain. “The box itself is probably worth somethin’ in the antique store!”

Snap. Another chain broken. “Are we gonna split the spot if it’s like a pirate treasure or somethin’?”

The chain snapped and fell on the ground. And that was the last one the supervisor managed to clip open, because at that moment the box moved suddenly. Everyone froze, silence falling over the construction site. The box shook again, this time much more aggressively.

“What the fuck is in there?!” the supervisor yelled, throwing the clippers aside and taking a cautious step back. That was the only thing they had time to do before the box shook violently for the third time and then, to put it simply, exploded into the air. There was screaming, hurried footsteps on the muddy ground, and then... a corpse fell from the air, slumping onto the ground like a bag of potatoes.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” the supervisor screamed. Chaos emitted from the crew when everyone scrambled out of the pit for their dear life.

Fighting was pointless. Before the supervisor even realized, he was circled by the corpses of his co-workers. He peeked around the excavator, looking for a chance to run, but unfortunately his search came to a premature stop when he was literally lifted off the ground. He stared in horror into the eyes of their killer. Into his killer.

“I am so terribly sorry for this,” the man spoke. At least it looked like a man, but the supervisor was convinced it was merely a monster. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. “You must understand that I am very, _very_ thirsty right now. Apologies.” With that, the man raised the supervisor higher up and struck against his neck. He fed himself hungrily until there was no blood left on the man. Just a sack of muscle, skin and bones. He threw the corpse on the ground and swiped his mouth on his sleeve.

What a terrible mess he’d made.

While the supervisor was unaware of it, and would never even find out, the man he’d just come across was Oswald Van Dahl. Perhaps not the Oswald Van Dahl people knew and loved back in the day, but the Oswald Van Dahl that was alive here and now, in 1972. Oswald had not anticipated to be woken up from his 200-year nap that night, but he was certainly not complaining. While he was bloody and still thirsting for something to sip on, his situation was definitely better than it’d been five minutes ago. He gave one last look at the construction workers, feeling slight pity towards the mortals that had had to die for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, before turning around and beginning to march away from the scene.

Vandahlia was not like he remembered it, that much became very apparent as soon as he reached the heart of the city. It was in full swing despite it being dark and quite gloomy. Weird shiny carriages without horses driving around, creating noise that seemed both obnoxious and completely unnecessary. Garbage everywhere, people drinking on the curbs, obscure lights surrounding the city.

“Peculiar,” Oswald muttered to himself while observing a young lady in a skirt much too short for her. She was standing in a small vertical box talking into a C-shaped object. While Oswald wasn’t a stranger to chatting to himself, it seemed odd that there were boxes specifically made for that sort of thing. It must have been an invention of the hideous witch Sofia. The bitch who had made him talk to himself for two centuries in a box. Although, this one was not buried underground.

His journey continued through the city and towards the only place he felt welcomed in at that moment. The Van Dahl mansion, his dear home. Surely it would still be up? Surely there were people there that he could trust? Family?

He passed through a forest since it was the easiest way to get to his destination, but he stopped suddenly when something didn’t seem right. He had stepped forward and landed on a hard, black surface. It looked almost demonic. He observed it up close, leaning down and running his fingernails across the ground. How curious.

He raised his head when something flashed in the corner of his eyes. He stood up fast and watched as two small circles approached through the trees, getting closer and closer every passing second. He gasped. The Devil had finally come for him. The lights, the Devil’s glowing eyes, kept getting closer and entered a straight path, staring right at him. He straightened his spine and spread his arms.

“Satan. Mefistofeles, I welcome you with open arms,” he said and closed his eyes. “Take me, beast!”

The expected contact did not happen. Instead he opened his eyes just as the lights (which he now realized were not of the Devil’s at all, and instead one of those weird shiny carriages) sped past him, nearly hitting a tree. “Asshole!” the driver of the carriage yelled when he got his transportation tool back in control. Oswald stared after him in utter confusion.

Finally, after all the oddities he’d come across, he reached his destination; the Van Dahl mansion. It was nothing like he remembered it. Vines had sprawled across the entire building, the walls were cracked, and the paint was worn and bland. The whole yard was filled with weeds. Oswald looked at the sight in front of him in horror.

“Dear lord, what have they done to you...?” he muttered to himself as he walked slowly through the thriving grass. He stepped over a patch of pumpkins and noticed a man laying on the floor. He was just there, bottle of something smelly in one hand and a small pumpkin in other. He looked intoxicated to say the least, quietly singing a lullaby to the pumpkin.

“Mortal,” Oswald said and straightened his short form. The bald man’s eyes travelled slowly up to his eyes and he tilted his head.

“Huh?”

“Do you live in this mansion?” Oswald questioned and gestured over to the house just in case there was a possibility to be misunderstood.

“Uh. Yeeeah?” the baldie said, scrambling up from the ground. He dropped the pumpkin in the process. “Duuude,” he said, eyes wide. “You cool? You kinda... pale. Is that blood?”

“Human,” Oswald commanded again and put his hand in front of his face. “You will now tell me the most deepest, darkest desires of your heart,” he ordered, spinning his skinny fingers around in front of the man’s face. He looked into them for a moment before basically falling asleep while standing. He _actually_ snored.

“Wake up!” Oswald groaned and snapped his fingers. The man awoke in an instant and stared into Oswald’s eyes like he was just now seeing him for the first time.

“Very good,” Oswald said and smiled. “Now, tell me. Is the Van Dahl family still thriving? Do they still live here.”

“Uuuuh. Yeah. There’s Ms. Barbara and Ms. Tabitha. They’ve got two kids,” the man spoke unblinkingly.

“Thank god,” Oswald muttered, losing the serious demeaner for a second as it switched into a relieved one. He put himself together fast and looked at the baldie again.

“What year is it, human?”

“1942. No, wait, 1941... Uh, yeah. 1942.”

“Nineteen fourty-two?” Oswald repeated slowly and contemplated for a second if he should ask the question again. Certainly it couldn’t have been two whole centuries? Two _hundred years_ spent in a coffin? Then again, he knew anyone under his hypnotic spell could not tell lies, so he knew the man wasn’t fooling him.

“Very well, then,” Oswald said after dealing with his existensal crisis. “You will follow my every rule, gentleman. You will not disobey or tell anything about this encounter. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Oswald nodded, and then snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face. “Now awaken.”

The hazy look disappeared from the man’s eyes and he blinked. “So where should I start?” he asked nonchalantly.

Oswald smiled. “I want to look my Sunday best when meeting this Ms. Barbara. You wouldn’t mind cleaning me up a little, would you?”


End file.
